Watervliet is on the verge of a colossally stupid decision. Christine Bulmer is among those trying to change its path.

On Friday, Bulmer stood next to a dismantled altar and looked over what remains of St. Patrick's Church. The building, at this point, isn't much more than a shell. The pews were gone, as are many of the stained glass windows. Ornate statuary was lined up near the front door, ready for scavengers to carry it away.

It was no easy scene for Bulmer, a retired Watervliet school teacher. She was baptized at St. Patrick's. So was her son. She was married under the building's soaring ceiling. Her father's funeral was held there.

And now, Bulmer is a leader in the fight to save the St. Patrick's exterior, to keep it from being razed for the construction of a supermarket and parking lot.

In short, that means Bulmer is trying to keep Watervliet from making a disastrous mistake. She and other opponents of demolition in the city of 10,000 have their work cut out for them.

"The word is out that this is a done deal, that the project will go forward," Bulmer said.

Gee, now why would she be so cynical? I mean, isn't the debate over demolition just beginning in Watervliet?

Well, consider that Mayor Michael Manning just fired Rosemary Nichols, the city's director for planning and community revitalization, from part of her job. He removed her from the St. Patrick's proposal review team — ostensibly for failing to be gung-ho about the project.

Sure seems like the city is greasing the path to demolition. Manning, unfortunately, wasn't available for comment Friday.

Make no mistake, this is about more than the demolition of a gloriously beautiful church. The proposal by Latham-based Nigro Cos. would take down an entire city block, a plan that revives the bad old days of misguided urban renewal.

Gone would be the park-like lawn that fronts the church along 19th Street, a main city drag. Gone would be the rectory and the old Catholic school. And gone would be rowhouses that line 23rd Street, on the backside of the block.

The Nigro plan, which still needs a zoning change from the city to proceed, would replace all that, putting a parking lot and a small retail outbuilding at the front of the site and a Price Chopper at the back of the parcel. As currently designed, it would impose suburban-style development and traffic on an urban setting.

"It's not just about the preservation of the church, but the preservation of the neighborhood," said Bulmer, whose home is a few blocks from St. Patrick's. "There are families that live here."

Cities, to succeed economically, have to focus on their strengths and market them relentlessly. Among Watervliet's strengths are its walkability and what remains of its historic architecture.

It feels like a real place. It has character.

But a retail box undermines those assets. It helps make Watervliet another generic locale — suburbia, but with higher taxes.

Ironically, Watervliet has been building on its urban character as it tries to improve 19th Street. That city just completed a reconstruction of the street that made it more pedestrian friendly. It has adopted a comprehensive plan that calls for more urban design standards along the strip.

And it hired a consultant to look specifically at the St. Patrick's property, resulting in a report that suggested converting the church to office space or another use, and using the school and rectory for housing.

Why, suddenly, is the city tossing all that work aside?

Nichols, for one, believes the consultant's suggestion for St. Patrick's can work, noting the city's closed St. Brigid's Church has been successfully converted to office space.

"I think it's a bad idea," Nichols said of the demolition proposal. "It can be a reused site."

Shhhh. That opinion isn't welcome in Watervliet's city hall.

To be sure, Price Chopper, which has an existing store in Watervliet, deserves applause for refusing to abandon urban locations. And John Nigro, head of the development company, earnestly believes his plan is good for the city.

"If I didn't believe in this project and all of its aspects 100 percent, I wouldn't have my name on it," Nigro told me Friday.

Nigro rightly noted that Watervliet residents deserve and need a better supermarket. He said the store will be designed as an unusually attractive and distinctive grocery, and said he's willing to adapt its design to address neighborhood concerns.

Nigro also said it's unlikely a "white knight" will come along with the willingness and money to save St. Patrick's.

No doubt, the Capital Region already has more than its share of empty and decaying churches, each with an uncertain future. But the region also has plenty of empty shopping plazas. And an abandoned shopping center is far uglier than an empty church.

I don't know if St. Patrick's can be saved. But even if it can't, downtown Watervliet is not the place for suburban-style shopping.

In downtown Troy, Nigro is a partner in a project that would put retail and 106 apartments in two elegant buildings on Monument Square.

In downtown Saratoga Springs, Price Chopper partnered with Bonacio Construction to build a grocery that puts apartments above the market in an attractive six-story building.

Those projects enhance their downtown settings and set the stage for new growth and tax revenue. Smart redevelopment of the St. Patrick's site could do the same.

But the existing proposal for Watervliet doesn't build on 19th Street's strengths. It undermines them. It's bad urban planning that may provide a short-term tax gain, but isn't good for the city's long-term health.

By razing St. Patrick's for a strip mall, Watervliet is tearing down its past — and its future, too.